


Trick or Treat

by sister_wolf



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-31
Updated: 2000-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Brotherhood goes trick-or-treating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trick or Treat

Halloween, 2000: a nondescript van cruised down I-95 outside of Washington. Anyone glancing at the driver of the vehicle would have seen a rather average-looking man of indeterminate age, casually dressed, perfectly forgettable.

That was how Mystique liked it.

"Vic ate all the candy corn," Toad complained.

"Did not." Victor Creed, Sabretooth to his enemies, glared at his smaller, green-skinned comrade-in-arms, growling softly.

Mortimer Toynbee, otherwise known as Toad, stuck out his tongue, crossing his eyes. The effect was rather startling, considering Mortimer's rather… well… amphibian appearance.

"Would you two overgrown babies do me a favor and shove it!" Mystique demanded irritably from the front of the van.

Mort and Vic scowled, but stopped sniping at each other. The last time they'd pushed Mystique too far, she'd kicked both of them in the face… while the van was still going eighty down a crowded highway. She didn't seem to be concerned that they'd swerved across two lanes of traffic and barely missed being crushed by a semi. They'd both realized that day that it was a bad idea to piss Mystique off when she was driving.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Mort asked after a while.

"I told you. We're going trick-or-treating," Mystique answered.

"Oh, come on, Mystique, you can't be serious. We've got other problems to take care of. You remember, our fearless leader? Master of magnetism? Currently in prison?"

"This is serious business." She grinned into the rearview mirror.

"And can't you at least take a female form? It's just too bloody bizarre to see you walk into the men's loo."

Vic, who had been pondering something deeply for the last few minutes, interrupted their bickering. "I went trick-or-treating once."

Mort looked at him. "Go on, try another sentence or two. It's fun!"

Vic growled, sensing the sarcasm but not really understanding it. "I wanted candy. I knocked on their door and said 'Trick or treat!' Just like yer supposed to. It was a little family. A mother, a father, and two children. I just wanted candy. But they looked at me and got all scared. And then the father grabbed a shotgun."

Vic stopped, apparently done with his story.

Mort waited, drumming his heel absently on the floor. A full thirty seconds passed before Mort demanded, "And then what? There had better be a point to this!"

"And then I killed them all. I broke the shotgun, then I ripped the children into little pieces, and then I killed the father. But I saved the mother for last."

Mystique, smoothly exiting the freeway, said, "Ah, Vic, we can always count on your for a fun story."

"Yeah, great," Mort agreed sourly. "Hey, why the hell are we in the fucking suburbs?"

Mystique smiled. "You'll see."

***

A few minutes later, the van pulled into the driveway of a large house in a luxurious subdivision. Cheerful Halloween decorations leered from the front bay window.

Mystique turned off the engine and shifted back into her natural form, a blue-skinned, scaly woman.

Mort eyed her appreciatively. "That's more like it!"

She eyed him like a repulsive bug she was considering squishing. "Everybody out of the car."

Vic was first out of the van, stretching to his full height of seven feet with a relieved sigh. Mort followed him, hunching over slightly, feeling entirely too exposed in this place of well-clipped lawns and wide boulevards. Mystique followed last, a strange smile of anticipation on her face.

"So what's the plan? We just ring the doorbell and say trick or treat?" Mort demanded.

"That's the plan," Mystique answered calmly, starting for the door.

Vic muttered to himself, "Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat…"

Mort shrugged and followed Mystique to the door. She rang the doorbell and waited.

After a few minutes, a woman with beautifully-coiffed blonde hair answered the door and said, "May I help you?" She looked doubtfully from the nearly-naked blue woman, to the scruffy greenish guy, to the enormous blonde man in a ragged fur coat.

"I think you can," answered Mystique cheerfully. "Are you Luella Brigham?"

"Yes. We don't allow solicitors in this neighborhood," she said primly.

"Actually, we're here to inquire about a donation you and your husband have already made. To Senator Kelly's organization?"

"I really must ask you to leave."

"In the amount of twenty thousand dollars?"

"How did you know…" Her eyes widened and she tried to shove the door closed.

Mystique smiled and kicked the woman into her marble-tiled entryway. "Trick or treat," she said cheerfully, beckoning Mort and Vic inside.

***

The morning papers carried the tragic story of the Brigham family, solid, upstanding citizens, found dead in their burning home on Halloween night. Authorities suspected arson, but no solid leads had been found.

***


End file.
